


A Dawning in the East

by TheWildWoods



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Introspection, Jonathan Sims Needs a Hug, gratuitous and inaccurate descriptions of the sky, season 5 is killing me and I need an outlet, there are more tags than fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWildWoods/pseuds/TheWildWoods
Summary: Sunrises symbolize rebirth, hope, and a fresh start. It's no wonder Jon never watches them.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	A Dawning in the East

**Author's Note:**

> Listening to Season 5, in some twisted way, is making quarantine significantly more bearable. Not sure what that says about me and the rest of this fandom, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

There exist people in this world who rise early in the predawn hours to bear witness to the rising of the sun. They rise silently and softly from their beds while the outside world is still blanketed under that cool, dark swath of sky that characterizes the night. Far above the reaches of humanity stretches a crystal-studded dome. Pricks of silver light crowd all around a navy, velvet backdrop. When gazed upon for long enough, the colors of the Cosmos gradually reveal themselves to the gazer. It is not just navy and silver, but streaks of rich purple and red, strands of green and smudges of white. A painter's palette doesn't come close to variety of color found in the Wilds of space.

Beyond what any ordinary observer can see with their eyes, but perfectly within reach of the Mind's Eye, are the more esoteric and unfamiliar occupants of galactic space. Nurseries of stars, nebulae, are hot, swirling vortexes of gas and dust, the remnants of explosive, stellar deaths. These are perhaps the best example in all of space and time of the cyclical nature of the universe, with one death feeding immediately and directly to new life.

It is dark enough so that if one were to close one’s eyes and suck the moist, night air into their lungs, one could easily imagine the sensation of nonexistence. To not have a body, to simply experience the grandeur and splendor of the night without that experience being filtered by human senses. 

Then, an easterly light would begin to creep over the horizon. A red, dawning light that grows brighter and brighter with each passing second. Before the clearly defined form of the sun can be seen, the landscape on which the observer is standing will already be bathed in the warm, red light of the sunrise. Eventually, a wavering ball of immense power and energy makes its creeping way across the line distinguishing the terrestrial from the heavenly, and the day begins. The moment has passed, and that magical feeling of freedom from being is gone, leaving such a fleeting impression that the observer is left wondering if it was ever there at all.

Jonathan Sims is not one of these people. He is no longer prone to the flights of fancy and imagination necessary for these journeys of spirit, and though he certainly awakens long before the sun makes an appearance, there are no windows in the Archives. He no longer sleeps, but he leaves the Archives about as often as he rests. Taking a break from the horrors of his work, some of which he is responsible for, simply isn't an option. There are other matters at hand to consider, too important to waste time losing oneself, if only for a moment, to the beauty of the heavens. Nowadays, he tends to scoff at those who do. 

As it is with all things, this wasn’t always so. Jon, in his childhood and even into adolescence, was one to ponder the nature of things, asking his grandmother questions very typical of inquisitive children. Why does the sky turn so many colors? he would ask. What do stars smell like? How do pianos work? How do spiders know to spin webs?

That last one, now recalled with shudders and sweaty palms, was quickly forgotten by Jon after a certain childhood incident.

Perhaps he should be sad, Jon mused once, what had happened to him. It is difficult, however, to maintain a child’s wonder of the world as one begins to learn more about how the world really is. One learns to fear the dark, rather than to revel in it.


End file.
